Royal Flush
by Saralla
Summary: Nothing is ever fair, even for Mystique Goldblood. Even as the eldest, strongest, and most skilled child in the family, she is still outranked by her brother because he is a man- BOY- and she is not. It might take a little force to break this rule.
1. Times Ticking

Time never seem to tick right whenever she was with him. Sometimes it made years pass in the blink of an eye. Watching each of their children grow up. Others were so slow, even the smallest of seconds seemed to fill their own eternities. Every touch from gentle taps to warm embraces. Every smile towards her jokes and petty mistakes. All the times their eyes met, saying words no mouth could ever say.

To be honest, she wished those seconds could have lasted a little longer.

But right now, time was different. It didn't speed nor slow. Not even stop. Instead, it's more like it disappeared. It was like the sudden lash of a breeze, leaving everything in a chilled aftertaste.

Her hand stroked through the coppery, grey speckled strands on his head, so carefully as if they could disappear beneath her fingers. It was so strange to see it so... disheveled. He used to be such a perfectionist about it, calling forth the greatest stylist in the Gold City and having them damned if it didn't come out right. Funny, he was almost as picky as she was.

She loved that about him. Missed it too.

Her eyes dropped to the eyelids covering his. She could still remember those green eyes light up when they met in the Forest. My brothers and she had been out hunting down and gathering what we could. she had been setting up a snare when she spotted… him. Magnus Goldblood, prince and eldest son of the King and Queen. It was illegal for anyone to be in the Forest, let alone a young lady. He could have easily turned me in. she would have been forced to watch my family be slaughtered before being given the same pain. He would have been punished as well, though he would have gotten nothing more than slap.

So yes, she was horrified, but she knew better than to show it.

As far as he knew she was cornered. He was a prince and surely could call on anyone to sweep me away. But he was a prince, and royalty gets so spoiled that their minds are never fresh. The Forest was my second home and he was in unfamiliar territory. He proposed his taunts, and she played the trapped victim. she never let my feet stay still and ran him straight into one of my other traps. You should of seen him their, dangling from ankle like a trapped rabbit. But before he'd left, he made me give him a promise, to return there the next night. she did return, and so did he. Soon, it was something we did every night. We were partners. A perfect pair. she don't know how it happened, but somewhere along the lines, but soon we were inseparable. The Forest was our place. It was our beginning, our everything. And no one was ever going to change that.

Not even his parents.

Yes, somehow his snotty brother found out and snitched to the one and only Queen. Let's just say she wasn't ecstatic to hear that her favorite son had fallen for a pretty face found in the cheap filth of working low class.

The story's a little long, but in the end fate gave me a crown and silenced the hags for good.

So knowing that fate, it's hard to believe this face could even exist. He was always running around the palace, his emotions as unpredictable as the colors of the sky. Some days he would be prancing around the halls, his voice so beautiful she couldn't help but join in. Every now and then he'd take her hands and waltz her through the house. One time we went through the kitchen- let's just say it wasn't a good idea. Other days he was a bomb with a broken timer. Storms would brew all around him and the kids knew when to duck for cover. One time his fits had gotten so bad they had to replace half the house. All of that life had drained from his face, leaving behind a pale, broken stranger.

"Cynthia."

_Magnus?_ She looked back down, but the man was still motionless. Her eyes moved up to where the nurse stood in the doorway.

"I am sorry to interrupt you but visiting hours are up. It would probably be best if you returned home..." She must have seen something in the queen's face because she quickly added, "Whenever you wish."

The nurse was about to leave when the queen held up a hand. "It's okay," she assured. It took the effort of a thousand men, but she stood up and made her way across the room. The nurse stepped aside as she approached.

But the queen paused, looking back. Her mind, her heart, longed for her husband, laying their just out of reach. She would have given anything to have him back sitting beside her at home. Heck, just to have him open his eyes, wrap her, and assure her that everything would be okay.

But it never would be like that. That was no longer her husband, the boy who found her in the woods. Just a hallow shell, some body.

"Make sure he survives the night," She said. It was an order. With that, she left, leaving behind an unforgettable past she'd never have the strength to leave forever.


	2. Forbidden Trends

_Finally, _I thought as I swung my blade, _Some real action. _

It had felt like a lifetime since my last fight, and yet the rhythms come back to me as if I had done this yesterday.

Mother has been keeping a hawk's eye on me, constantly giving me guides who teach me the ways of elegance, flexibility, management, finance, beauty, fashion, dance, and all of the other arts you could imagine. Yes, I admit some of them are really fun, but they're nothing compared to the good old combats of the good old days. The closest I ever get to them are my archery lessons. Boring! I'm nearly snoring by the time I've made my fifth bulls-eye.

So I guess it's a good thing that Father's dying. It gets that crazy woman out of my hair.

Jonathan's sword clashed against mine. I was about to swing for his ribs, but I had to back out and block his blade as it lunged for my gut.

Of all the people I have fought over the years, Jonathan has always been my favorite. My brother is a master of all fights, but he's impeccable with a sword. Even with the strength of a thousand men, he has learned to not fall to the weakness of letting him blindside him. His movements are as swift as the wind, with the same deadly grace. His mind is always so far ahead in fights that he can practically see your every movement before it even crosses your mind. He can get in your head and flip your mind off its tracks with nothing more than the look of his eyes. He has been challenged by many of the world's greatest warriors and only one person still stands in the way him truly being undefeated.

The world considers him a legend.

I think he could still use some work.

I spun it up, using the moment to swing a kick into his chest. He fell, but a second later was up and right behind me. I ducked, barely feeling as a breeze swung over my head.

He was fast.

But I was faster.

He swung his sword. I ducked in time, using my foot to swing under him as he jumped. In the time it took him to land, I had swirled around him. I jammed the hilt of my sword into the square of his back. He flinched forward, and I pounded my elbow on the gap between his shoulder and neck. He fell to the ground, but got back up, just barely blocking my kick.

"Going… easy… on me?" I asked, my sword hitting his between words.

"Going… easy… is… a waste… of… _time_!" His sword had somehow caught mine. I felt my arm being twisted out to my side, forcing my heel to lose the ground.

Something plowed into my chest. The ground slammed into my back.

I rolled over, hearing his blade slice into the floor beside me. I swung my foot at his, causing him to jump. He'd just pulled the blade out of the ground as I got to my feet.

His blade met mine. The hit wasn't as strong as all of his others. He was nearly finished.

I was just getting started.

I spotted where I was.

_Not close enough._

I lunged at him, keeping my blade pointed towards his right. He stepped to his left, swinging his sword to my side. I stepped back, moving us closer, and made another swipe towards his right. His foot stepped back as his blade hit mine.

_Closer._

I turned slightly to my left, and he lunged for it. My foot turned back as I brought my sword to his. I swung my sword to his right. He blocked again, helping me move us back closer.

I swung to his right. Again. And again.

Then I swung my sword to his left. He swung towards his right, but quickly changed, just barely meeting my sword. It was enough though. He had left himself open.

My knee hit him down where it counted.

His eyes widened for a second, and he fell into himself. His legs barely held him up. I sent the sword at him. He didn't bother to block, just backed out of its way.

The wall was just a few feet away.

_Perfect!_

I leaped for the wall. My foot caught it and leaped over and around him. On the way down, I caught his free arm and pulled it back.

A sly smirk crossed my face. "Greatest fighter in Golden City," I twisted it taught against his back and pressed my blade to his neck. I sunk my chin into the gap of his shoulder, "And you're still getting beat by a girl." Lowering my sword, I gave Jonathan a shove. He fell like a rock to his knees. I slid my sword back into its sheath.

"Misty!" I looked over to see Lucian racing towards me. I managed to get down just in time for him to get his little arms around my neck. "That was _awe_some! The way you came up behind him and, and be… before that… you… you were like hye! Hye! Hye!" I couldn't stop myself from laughing as he scrambled back and forth across the room, his arm swinging at invisible opponents.

When he finally got close enough, I grabbed him up by his shoulders and swung him around. "Why, thank you," I said, giving a slight bow, "But I would never be as good as I am if I didn't have my second command at my side, right?"

His eyes glowed brighter than his smile as he nodded and made a deep bow, "Yes, sir!"

"Maim," I glanced over at the nagging correction. Somehow Jonathan had recollected himself and was back on his feet. His arms were crossed as he made a _tsk_, "And I must say, that one move was quite unfair."

"Everyone knows that a fair fighters never win," I said simply.

"They also know that they are no better than the scum of peasants," He added.

"And yet you still lost."

"To a girl," Lucian snickered.

A blade's tip was suddenly inches from his neck. "Silence!" Jonathan ordered, "I have heard enough of your petty talk. If you wish to start a fight, start it like a man."

The boy's wide brown eyes stared down the length of the blade before looking up into the killer eyes of its owner.

My one arm crossed over Lucian, pushing him behind me. I drew out my sword with the other. "Pick a fight with someone your own size," I said, "Leave him out of it."

Those eyes, those cruel, monstrous eyes. their orders boiling in my mind. My blood.

The skin in my neck trembled. The air around me clung to my skin, like mist. The order pounded against my skull. I wanted to obey. Every bit of me wanted to obey. It was so simple. Just one little movement. My foot began to inch towards my side. My body shifted to follow to follow.

But stopped.

_I couldn't do that,_ I told myself,_ I wouldn't._

The air tensed around us, weighing down every second of silence.

After what felt like an eternity, he dropped his sword in defeat.

"I don't have time for this," He spat, sliding his sword back into its sheath. "Sooner or later you're going to have to stop babying the boy and let him grow up already."

He turned for the door, but my voice stopped him.

"Funny for you to say that," I said, "Considering that you are the one who needs to grow up."

Suddenly he was right in front of me, a new type of danger filling his eyes. "Careful what you say, Mystique," He warned, "While you may fight as well as a man, you are far from one."

I opened my mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the slam of the front door.

"Mother's home," He cooed. His voice made my skin crawl.


	3. Sliced and Chopped

"Mommy!"

"He-_lo_ sweety," She flinched when Lucian ran into her. She reached a hand down into his hair, "How was your day?"

"Great!" he cheered, "You should of seen it, mommy. Misty kicked John's butt!"

"Lucian," Jonathan growled.

"Jonathan," I warned.

Mother let out a deep sigh, "Mystique."

I gave her a stunned look, "Mystique?"

"Lucian!" Lucian cheered.

We all looked down at him and said together, "Lucian."

He just grinned.

I turned back to my mother, "What do you mean _Mystique?"_ I demanded.

"Don't worry about," she said, waving it away. She turned to Jonathan, ""Can you go get Caleb and bring him to the table." She asked.

"Of course," He had blurred out of sight, leaving the words alone to hang in the empty air.

Mother's eyes were suddenly on me. "Go check on the kitchen."

I bowed, and when she glared I gave her a curtsy.

In a few moments she was far from mind and the food was front and center. Its smell flooded around me as I opened the door. I didn't even bother with an apron, almost hearing my mother's sigh. But enough with her. If I may say the words of a wise yet annoying brother, _some things are just a waste of time._

Cooking has been with me ever since I was young. One day I had wandered here, tired of the rest of the palace, and have been coming back ever since.

I hastened through the aisles, occasionally pausing to check on a meal I passed, making a few of the many needed adjustments. I soon found the storage, carefully shutting the door behind me. I stood in a large square room. Shelves over flooding with food covered its four walls. The shelves were overflowed with food from simple basics to delectably exotic. One wall was for crops. The one across from it was filled with grain. The wall ahead of me was cheeses and dairy. The door divided the final wall behind me into two sections, drinks and spices.

I hurried to the spices. The wall was speckled in colorful jars. They were all in alphabetical order, though there was one jar out of place.

I took a quick glance over my shoulder before digging my arm between jars of saffron and sage. My hand found the jar slightly smaller than the rest and pulled it out. Unlike the rich colors of all the other jars around it, its grains were a soft white.

Clutching it close to my chest, I popped off the jar and sniffed. The bittersweet scent had a smell that mirrored almonds, though its ingredients were the exact opposite of such a sweet, harmless reflection. My special powder.

Mother would slap me for having it.

I smiled.

I had gotten it a while back down at the black market. The place has always been a favorite of mine, though being who I am makes getting there can be a hassle.

There had been a big bidding war over the stuff, and I am a sucker for competitions. I'd used up most of my money for it but it was definitely worth it. While haggling was my main talent there, bidding was second best. Don't get me wrong, a lot of the filthy peasants are stern with their prices, but in the end it is impossible to say no to a Goldblood.

This powder is very powerful, almost fate changing. Just the thrill of having it made it worth its price. While it didn't have a purpose when I'd first bought it, I knew the day for it would come sooner or later. As it turns out, that day had actually just passed a few weeks ago.

Mother would send me to death if she ever knew of that. She would probably kill me herself.

Correction: She would _definitely_ kill me herself.

Looking over my shoulder, I popped the lid back on the jar and put it back in its spot, hidden from sight.

I grabbed a few jars and some greens before heading out of there. I paced through the kitchen. All of our meals took over different sections of the kitchen. My eyes first sighted Jonathan's. This time he had an eighteen ounce steak. It was surrounded in a moat of roasted carrots and potatoes. I took a sniff from the saucepan beside it.

I diced up an onion, stirring it in the pot, before adding some oregano.

_Much better._

I spotted Caleb's meal next. It was an arranged plate of soft veggies and rice. There aren't a lot of ways to improve baby food, so I just left it how it was. Lucian's lamb chop turned out really good for once and only needed a few extra spices. Mother's lobster and clams were slightly off with the seasonings, but I'm sure someone like her would never be able to tell the difference.

My food was just around the corner. Juicy slabs of chicken stacked on top of each other. They were surrounded in a steaming ring of rice, corn, and pasta. I took a sniff and grimaced.

Do any of these people know how to cook?

I hurried back to the storage and got all of the right ingredients. Within a few minutes I managed to bring the broth back to normal. A few more and it was perfect.

I moved over to the sink. My foot stepped on the petal, turning on the water. I placed my hands in its chilly stream. I looked through the window. It gave a perfect view of the dining hall. The floor stretched over the ground as one, seamless stone. The long table stretched out with enough chairs to seat dozens. It used to.

Father was the one in the family who made sure we hosted a party at least once a fortnight. The royals would all be led into the ballroom. I used to be stuck dancing with one of their spoiled kids who couldn't tell the difference my waist and my butt. Afterwords they would all be brought into the dining hall. Father would sit on one end of the table and Mother on the other. Men and their boys would sit towards Father's side while the women and girls sat towards my mother. The daughters were better than the sons, though my mother was an expert at embarrassing her only daughter.

Mother had let go of many of our workers when Father left. Now there is no reason to have them. The days of hosting parties are over.

The maids were just finishing putting the silverware on the table when Jonathan came in. Little Caleb squirmed around in his brother's arms, his legs kicking at the air. The little guy had just learned how to walk and now he refuses to stop.

I couldn't hold back a laugh.

_He is _such_ a Goldblood. _

A few maids clumsily hurried off when they spotted him, coming back huddled around his highchair. They each held a leg, struggling to make it across the room.

I can remember one time a few maids had tried to drag it across the room. Wow! You should have seen the look on mother's face. After all her clamor, I am still surprised that she had enough mercy to spare them their lives. And don't get me started on how long it took the new maids to get the streaks out of the floor. How many women does it take to carry a chair?

_One,_ I thought with a laugh. _Though it seems like Lowers never understood the concept of work._

My eyes lost the scene and were caught by another pair. Mother stared at me through the window. I nodded, stepping away from sink and wiping my hands dry on my pants.

When I got out there, everyone, except Caleb, stood beside their seats. I found mine beside Lucian. We pulled them out and sat down in unison.


	4. The First Domino

"Children."

I looked up at my mother. So did my brothers. I cannot remember the last time she had called us that.

"Time is forever ticking," She continued, "It will always pass by and there is no way to stop it." Her eyes lost us as she said, "No way to even slow it down."

A long time passed before she continued. "But we must continue through it. The Goldblood family has faced much over the years, and there is nothing that has brought us down. And that will continue. Father will not be coming back, but this family will still reign on. Seven dawns from now, a new king will be crowned,"

_King? _I thought. I knew I would be forced to marry eventually, but can she really thrust some random man with my kingdom?

Her eyes moved to Jonathan.

_No._ Impossible. She cannot be serious.

"This kingdom will rule under the eyes of Jonathan Goldblood."

No.

No!

He smiled, "I promise to serve this kingdom well."

No!

No!

Mother smiled back, "I know you will."

"No!"

Jonathan looked at me, his eyes puzzled. His mouth open, but someone beat him to it.

"What did you just say?" Mother was glaring me, but I could barely see her.

"No!" I was on my feet. The seat fell back behind me. "He cannot be… You're wrong… I am…Ha-how could you…" Every thought in my mind was scrambled. I did manage to get one out of the mess though. "Are you insane?"

Everyone was frozen. The silence said everything I needed to hear. It echoed back what I had really said.

The room was shrinking. The floor crawled towards me. It grabbed at my feet, crawled up my skin.

_Don't forget what you are._ Jonathan's voice echoed around me.

_Pathedic. _

My eyes burned.

A royal woman never cries.

_Pathedic._

"Missy," I barely heard Lucian's voice. A small hand grabbed mine.

I yanked my arm away. I ran, leaving the room to disappear behind me. Someone yelled my name, but distance quickly turned it into a fading whisper. I sprinted through the halls. I couldn't remember feeling the steps but was soon upstairs. I reached the end of the hall, forced the door open, and collapsed on my bed. The violet and raspberry fabrics itched against my skin. I threw them off, letting them take some of the pillows with them. My fist pounded into one of the ones still remaining before my head filled the dent.

"Mystique," The door said with my mother's voice. It creaked open.

"Go away!" I found another pillow beside me and threw it at the door._ Crack!_ It missed, forcing a picture frame of our family to fall to the ground.

Her sigh filled the air. I could see the disappointment through the back of my head. "You are nineteen," She said, "Sooner or later you are going to have to stop acting like a child."

"What do you want?" I demanded, the words cutting like a dull blade.

I felt my bed shift as it took on the weight of my mother. "Get away from me!" I ordered.

She let out another sigh, the rest of her staying still. "I realize that you are disappointed," She started in that annoying voice she uses whenever Lucian doesn't get what he wants, "But you have to understand why it must be like this."

I lifted my head from its pillow, finally meeting my mother's eyes. This was not my mother. This mother was wearing her smile for the public. This mother was actually decent enough to pretend to care.

I didn't know if I wanted to laugh or scream.

"Actually," I said, mimicking her ridiculous tone, "I do _not_ understand. Jonathan is only seventeen. How can you even give a glance at the thought of giving a child that kind of power?"

"Because he is the eldest son," I couldn't help but laugh. She continued, the air tensing in fear around her, "It has always been that way since the first Goldblood was crowned years ago. That is how it will always be. There will not be any exceptions, not even for you. Fate has written out its demands and time will make them eternal. Just like it always has."

"What if that is not true?" I asked.

The room was silent for a long moment before she spoke again, "Excuse me?"

"What if fate can be changed?"

A cruel laugh left her lips, "Fate is unchangeable. Even _you_ should know that."

"But you were an exception." Her eyes turned to a wary glare as I continued, "It's not every day that a filthy peasant can gain any right to royalty, let alone to rule as queen."

A sharp shock of pain flooded my cheek. My hand caught the edge of the bed before I could fall over. My free hand reached up to clutch my cheek just as the burning in it began to spread.. My mouth opened, but no thoughts could last long enough to turn into words. I looked up to her, unable to meet the glaring eyes.

"Do not _ever_ speak of such nonsense again! Fate is what brought me to where I am. It has made me worked harder than you could ever know. Just because of who I was doesn't change who I am today. In fact, it has given me more than being raised in the petty selfish ways of a royal. Even the most tarnished creature has more of a right to be a Goldblood than a selfish, ill minded brat who can't look past childish fantasies. Your brother will take the throne at summer's first dawn and you will stand beside in support for the sake of your own name."

"But, mother," I said, "That is unfair!"

"Fair or not, it's _final_," Without another word, she stepped out the door, slamming it shut behind her.

My head collapsed into my pillow, doing little to muffle my scream.

_She is wrong_, I told myself. They are all wrong. He will not serve her well. He could never serve anyone well. He is the ill minded brat. _I am eldest! I should be queen!_

"She will pay," I said. I spotted the photo on the ground. It had been taken less than a month ago in our garden. The king and queen stood in the center. Jonathan and Lucian stood by my father. I stood with my mother. She held Caleb in her arms. A crack rippled out from my father's face. "They will all pay."


	5. A Beautiful Goodbye

I am SO SO sorry that it took so long for this chapter to come up. It was a bit longer and I didn't get as much time over the week. Don't worry, I am still writing and plan to continue writing until I reach the end. The story is still coming along as it should and a new chapter should be up next weekend. Let me know what you think and I will see you later.

* * *

><p>I have three weeks left.<p>

Three weeks until my father in announced to the public as dead. Three weeks until my brother is crowned king.

Three weeks should be plenty of time.

It has been a week since me and mother had fought. Our relationship had been shaken since. But our family is a lot like desert ground. Once the breeze has past, everything will settle back, the changes unrecognizable.

Three days ago, mother had come home with news of his death. No one was surprised. It was a matter of time before he finally dropped dead. I must admit, I was starting to lose my patience with him.

A rainbow of exquisite flowers filled the path around us. They joined vines that have swept over the mossy walls into a delegate weave. Every now and then I would spot a flower in the cracks of the stone walkway. Some were so young, their petal hugging around each other. Other flowers were so bright and open, revealing everything to their world. They were all so beautiful, each and every one glowing with life.

They were a sick irony to today.

The priest led the way down another path of our gardens. A black robe delicately detailed in red covered him from neck to foot. Two thick solid lines drew up from the sides of his neck, traced up is cheekbones, connected up his nose and separated into two arches across his forehead.

I walked behind him. The black fabric of my ruche black dress fit perfectly around me. Red, black and gold gems spotlessly embellished the bodice. The hem reached the ground, just covering the diamond encrusted details of my heels. It twisted into a twirling knot near my right shoulder before the fabric hugged down to the wrist of my arm. Red lace covered the rest of my exposed skin, including my left arm, my neck, and a gap at the side of my waist. It was also weaved into the exotic bun across the back of my head. Somewhere back there was a golden carnation.

Jonathan followed behind me and Lucian followed him. They both were dressed in black tuxedos with the jackets open to reveal the red and gold detailed shirts underneath. A maid walked behind them holding little squirmy Caleb. He was dressed just like his brothers, though it looked a lot better on him than them.

Mother held up the end of our family's line. A beautiful black dress flowed perfectly over her. The bodice was a perfect mix of jewels and red and black lace. The skirt bloomed out into a ball gown skirt. A beautiful train spread out from its laced hem, creating a wide gap between her and the coffin that followed behind us. Her hair had been swirled into five buns behind her head. A golden carnation was centered in each bun.

The chaos of the parade was farther back. Musicians, performers, and many other famous royals followed behind us. They brought with them the wild noises of celebration that could be heard over at the edges of the land.

I could barely hear them.

I followed the priest as we reached the final turn. If I angled my head right, I could see the mouth of the Crystal Caverns. White and brown crystals outlined its lips, a bold contrast to the moss and stones that surrounded it.

Soon we were inside. I have seen its walls a million times, but it still amazes me. Brilliant crystals ranging from grains of sands to boulders covered the walls. Some were black as night, grey as steel, white as eyes, or brown as dirt. Specked ones glinted with shards of diamonds and other were blended into blurred stripes. They reached up high above me, coming together in a tangled arch. If you looked close enough, you can see the rocks moving.

_Shwp- BAM!_

The lights suddenly went out. A second later the stones that had been pure white started to glow, casting the path in a dim light.

My feet froze. I glanced back and saw that the stone wall had replaced the entrance just after the coffin and its carriers had gotten in.

Something shoved my shoulder. I looked at Jonathan. His eyes met mine before they looked past me down the tunnel. I followed his gaze to the priest who was far ahead of me. I gave my brother a nod before hurrying to catch up.

The Crystal Caverns were a long endless maze. It has so many tricks and illusions that could leave any fool dumb enough to enter imprisoned and forever lost. Back then it had left me restless and without rest for many nights. Today it is just a pretty maze with a tainted past.

But unlike those fools, the priest knew what he was doing. And where he was going. After a dozen different turns, we reached the Goddess's River.

We were in a vast room. The stony path that had led us here became soft sand. Ahead of us, I could see the river. Its fresh crystal water was darkened by the black mud beneath. Right before its stream was a large dock.

Keeping balance in the sand, my family and I stepped aside and let the carriers push the coffin ahead of us. It was plated in gold and steel. Words of fortune, grace, and royalty had been engraved into it. Imagines of the wars between the Heavens and the Hells were painted in red and black. Also painted were the memories of our family and the fate that could possibly lie before us.

Watching it being pushed out and set up in the water, the priest approached us. In his pudgy hand he held a whittled bowl of my father's blood. He first came to my mother and traced a symmetric design over her face. When he finished I could see the delegate arches, strict lines, and the swirled half circle symbol of the kings second half.

The priest was soon in front of me. I closed my eyes, feeling his thumb press into my forehead and drag down to the tip of my nose. He then traced two lines across each of my cheeks and an arch from the corner of my eyes to my temples.

He went down the line from Jonathan to Caleb doing a similar pattern. He replaced the arches with jagged lines and made two lines curving up from their foreheads.

The priest stepped back, admiration shining as his eyes scanned over all of us. His hands came behind his back and his voice bellowed with the tone of a guider.

"Now the time has come." He began, "Forty-nine years ago, a fresh sun had raised, and after these many bright and victorious years, it is time to let it set. His time had been well spent. Growing up he was a strong lad, taking the steps that turned him from a prince, to a man, and a king. He lead many great wars and left none of them defeat. He will be remembered as many things. Magnus Goldblood, the Gold City's most noble, wise, and courageous rulers. And there are some," His eyes met us, "Who will remember him as so much more.

"Do not forget your father." He said, "While time is still young, there is no reason to forget the time that has already passed. Your father was a brave king, a true warrior, a great father, and a loyal husband." After a pause he said, "No one should ever forget that."

He walked towards the coffin. It wasn't until now that I noticed a sheath of black fabric lying beside the encasement. He reached into it and pulled out something with the gleam of metal. It was a powerful thing. It was blunt enough to knock down a million storms and yet just as sharp as the Goddess's mind.

It was a sword.

The king's sword.

My father's sword.

His eyes met Jonathan's. "Take your father's sword," He said, "Cut the final strand so that he may be free to take his awaiting immortality."

The priest went to his knees, holding the blade flat in his palms. "Lead us well and one day you may gain the same."

Jonathan froze for a moment before he reached down, carefully taking our father's blade into his own hands.

His eyes found the river. He was slow; taking each step like the ground could shatter beneath him at any moment. Soon he was on the dock. His eyes watched as the coffin bobbled. It reached out towards the stream, but a lone strand of gold coated steel help it chained to the dock.

His eyes left the river and returned to his father's blade. It shimmered as he tilted it, watching its blade. He held it up, staring deep into the beauty of its past, its present, and its future. This sword was more than just some piece of steel. This was the sword of the Goldbloods. This was the sword of the impossible legends that had walked our world. It has been held by every king that has ruled since this kingdom was born. I could just barely imagine every moment, every fight, and every death it has created. Whoever mastered this sword mastered the world. This sword was worth more than the land of our country, more than our hearts and our minds, and more than the gold in our blood.

That sword belonged to the true rulers. It belonged to no one below the best.

_That sword should be mine._

Time stood still. No one moved. No one breathed.

Then it happened.

He swung the blade down, chopping through the cord. The boat began to drift, taking the corpse away with it.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something I have never seen in my entire life.

A drip of water trailing down my mother's cheek.


	6. Fallen Into the Wrong Hands

Mother should be home soon, I reminded myself. She had taken Lucian down to the healer. Yesterday he had admitted to having a stomach ache.

I hurried to the kitchen. Lunch was never a big meal, so there was no one in sight when I entered.

It strange for one to last more than a day. Especially for a Goldblood. The closest he had gotten to any kind of sickness like this was a cold when he was little.

I have only seen one other person who had had issues like this. Three days ago I had gone to his funeral.

Like his last few meals, I took a pinch of the powder and sprinkled a little of it onto some of chicken chunks. I took the squares of dough and wrapped them around each of the chunks, carefully twisting the corners at the top into a knot and concealing the chicken inside. Once finished I dropped the chicken knots into the steaming pot.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed one of the maids staring at me from another station.

_Caroline_, I remembered. My eyes met hers and she ceded, fleeing like a frightened bug.

In the distant I heard the front door slam. Mother was yelling something I could not hear.

Making sure I was alone, I hurried to the pantry and hid my special powder back in its spot.

When I came back out, Mother and my brothers soon came into the dining room.

I met my mother's eyes before joining them.

Lunch soon came to the table. I cut off a piece of my lamb, watching as Lucian stabbed a knot and stuck it in his mouth.

"So Jonathan," I started. He looked up, I managed to force the next words out as sweetly as I could, "Are you enjoying your classes?"

_My_ classes.

In the corner of my eye I saw Lucian eat another knot.

"Yes," He said, "I admit they aren't easy," His eyes wandered to our mother, "But I know they will definitely be worth it."

_Trust me,_ I had to grit my teeth to keep from proclaiming the words out loud, _you will _never_ need them. _

Feeling the head of my fork bend under my thumb, I loosened my grip.

"Of course you will," My mother said, "The information may seem useless now, but you will need them in the long run." The she added, "Your father had felt the same way when he had to take them."

"Really?" I asked.

"Yes," She answered, not taking her eyes off my brother."This may surprise you," She said, "But you and your father are a lot alike."

"Really," He said in a tone so political that it mirrored our father's voice.

I saw Lucian eat another knot, his face tensing as he forced it down. His eyes had changed. They were glossy, distant. I could barely hear the whistles of his breath. His fork caught another knot.

"Yes," Mother continued.

I couldn't take their conversation anymore. So I didn't.

"Lucian, are you ok?"

He shook his head. He looked up, his eyes staring through me. "I do not feel so good."

"Is your stomach still troubling you?" She asked, her eyes finally finding the time to look away from Jonathan.

"Yes," He said. After a pause he said, "And my head is acting weird."

"Would you like go to the healer again tomorrow?" She asked.

"No," He shook his head, His eyes staring wide into his plate, "No." His eyes focused as he stabbed another piece of chicken and forced it down his throat. He dropped his fork. "I cannot eat this anymore," He said. He chair moved back and he rose to his feet, "I need rest. I cannot eat will my head acting funny."

He hurried for the hallway. He didn't get far.

All of the color in his face vanished with his first step.

His knee seemed to buckle on the second step.

I was out of my seat when his third step lost the ground. I had just been quick enough to catch him.

"Lucian!" The word did not escape my lips until he was in my arms. It was too calm, so I spoke again with the perfect amount of panic. "Lucian," His closed eyes stared up at me. "Lucian. Lucian!"

I shook his shoulders. His eyes flinched open. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Jonathan was suddenly beside me. He knelt down, locking his eyes with mine. "It is ok," He said slowly. "He is going to be ok."

"But," I lost the rest of the words. I also lost my grip on Lucian as Jonathan replaced it with his own. I had almost forgotten that Lucian was there until he and Jonathan were down the hallway and out of sight.

It felt like a while before I remembered that I was sitting on the floor. I stood up, letting out a careful breath. When I spotted my mother still at the table eating I asked, "Is he going to be okay?"

"I'm not sure," She said, "The boy is strong. The healer had said he should get better in a few days. It sounded right then," She let out a long sigh, "But now I am not so sure."

"I will go check on him," I said once the room had gotten so quiet that I could feel the dust settling around me. "I do not think Jonathan is good with healing. He is much better off doing the opposite."

Leaving my mother behind, I hurried down the hall and up the stairs.

"Come on," Jonathan's voice echoed down the hall. "It can't be that bad."

"But it is." Lucian whined back.

"You cannot be serious," I reached the door, carefully pulling it open without a sound. Little Lucian was curled up on the bed with his brother looming over him, "It is just a little stomach bug." "No more than that. You should be able to suck it up. Quit wasting your time acting like a girl and learn to forget it like a man."

"_Jon_athan," I warned.

"No need to be sneaky," He laughed, "I knew you were there."

"Oh really?" I mocked

"Yes," He insisted.

"Well maybe if you weren't so egocentric you could actually beat a girl."

He flinched back with pain as fake as his pride. "How could you say such a thing?"

"Am I wrong?" I mimicked. When he didn't say anything, I continued. "After all, arrogance is the most beautiful blindfold of all."

"Well you might want to look into that for yourself."

"Could you let Mother know that I will be taking care of Lucian from now on?" It wasn't a question, "I could not think of anyone else to trust to take care of him."

"You are not the one who should be giving orders." He warned. Without another word, he disappeared out of sight.

"Jerk," I grumbled when he was gone.

"Tell me about it."

I could not hold back a laugh. "He hears the word king once and suddenly thinks he is better than the world itself."

"I know."

"To be honest," I said, sitting down on the bed beside him. "I think he is the last person who should be crowned king."

"Same!" He cheered, falling into his pillows. "I could not agree more."

He shifted around on the pillows until he had landed on his side.

"Do you know who would make a great king?" He asked after a long silence.

"Who?" I asked.

He rose from his pillows, "You."

"Me?"

"Yeah," He continued. "You would make a much better king. You are smarter, nicer, and can kick… his… _butt!"_ He swung his fists in the air with the last few words.

"Yeah," I laughed, "His butt is an easy one to kick."

He let out a sigh, "Easy for you to say."

"I guess," I sighed, "But I would never be allowed to be king."

"Why not?"

"Because I am a girl."

"So?"

"Well…" I started, "It is just that girls are second best to men. Men are the stronger, braver ones and women… are not. We are supposed to follow orders and do what they are told. They are prizes for their men to show off. They are not meant to make orders. They would never be fit to rule a kingdom."

"That is just stupid."

I could not hold it back. Laughter pushed me back first into the bed. I curled up so that my face was just inches from his, "It is stupid. But then again so are a lot of things."

"Yeah."

"So how is your stomach?"

He shook his head. "Bad."

"Bad?" I asked, "Is it like a rock in the stomach bad or fluttery bugs in the stomach bad?"

"Both,"

"Both?" "I got it," I poked my hand up, snatching the idea from the open air. I lifted his shirt and kissed his stomach. I looked up and waited for a second, "Feeling better."

"No," He sighed. "It did not work,"

"Huh?" I said. I pouted my thought like I was deep in thought. What about… _this?_" Lifting up his shirt again, I blew a big raspberry.

"Hey!" He flinched back, bursting with giggles. "Not… funny!"

"Do you feel better now?"

After a long pause, he let out a sigh. "Not really."

I sat up, letting out a sigh of defeat. "I guess this stomach bug is a lot stronger than we thought," I mused. "But do not worry," I said when a frown started to sink down his face, "Before you know it everything will be _much_ better."

"You think so?" He asked, shifting in his blankets.

I kissed his forehead. His big green eyes staring up at me in wonder. I smiled, "I know so."


	7. The Best Die Young

Hey, sorry that its late. The holiday weekend has kept me kind of busy. Before we get started there are a couple things I would like to say.

First, I would like to make you all aware of another author on this sight. LoneWolfSniper. She is currently working on a great story that is... almost as good as mine. I'm just kidding. She is a wonderful author and I'm sure she would love it if you could check out her story.

Second, DaughterOfNoOne, thank you so much for your reviews. I love hearing your input and can't wait to hear more. Everyone, please, and I mean _please_ feel free to leave a review and let me know exactly what you think about the story. Don't hold back on any of your oppinions. I love to hear what you all have to say, good or bad.

Third, I am so sorry that I haven't been that consistent with the chapters. I promise that I am not finished with the story yet and plan to keep writing it to the end.

Now back to the story:

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><p>Tick.<p>

Tick.

_Tick_.

I flinched. My skin pricked with every one of them. It seems silent in the day, but as soon as the world darkens it's the loudest noise in the city. With every tick the night grew shorter, and the day came closer. With every tick I lost time. With every new tick fate's new deed could already be done.

Several times I had tried to get up but my body would refuse, never letting go of the bedding below it. Sometimes I would try to give up and fall asleep, but sleep would never come to me on a night like tonight. It would prick at my skin and twist my mind into a mental hell, but

"Come on Miss," I whispered, "Night is growing old." With a final push, the bed left me and I was on my feet.

My feet light, I hurried to my door. It whispered a soft squeak as I pulled it open. The darkness of my room followed into the halls. It didn't matter, though. I knew this house better than the back of my hand. I turned the handle, holding it taught as I pulled the door shut. I turned it into its slot, never letting it make a sound.

I took a few steps, and then froze.

The air was still. Nothing moved. I perked my ear. Not a single sound around me.

My fingers found the wall and traced it as I continued down the hall, counting each doorframe it hit.

Soon my fingers felt the wall disappear as I made the turn.

I took a step. And then another.

It creaked.

The air tensed. I froze. My hand flinched back from the wall. I froze. My hand tensed against the wall. I was instantly on my toes. I looked back. Waited. Nothing moved. No sound echoed anywhere. Eventually I could almost feel the ticks of the clock from my room.

My foot rose, and the creak whistled its eerie chimes again. I took a silent step and continued down the hall. My hand found the wall again.

I was quick getting past Jonathan's room and returned to my pace once I had passed.

All the way at the end of the hall, I found the room. My finger stopped at the edge of the doorframe. My other hand found the doorknob. I turned it carefully, not letting it ever make a sound, before pushing it opened. I stepped in, the door barely making a creek as I pushed it shut.

I twisted the lock.

With me in the room was a crib. Caleb let out a little snore just as I stepped forward.

His one arm was crossed over his chest. I traced my finger down it from his elbow. His skin was warm, bright.

Alive.

His little eyes fluttered open. He smiled.

I couldn't help it. I smiled back. He let out a little giggle.

"No!" I quickly brought my voice down to a whisper. "Shhhh," I traced my thumb over his eyes. "Go back to sleep." I lifted my thumb, and they fluttered open.

_Come on,_ I almost growled. I placed my fingers over his eyes again. _Sleep child, sleep._

They fluttered open again.

Letting out a sigh, I guided my hand below his neck. The soft gentle skin warmed as I lifted his head from its pillow. My other hand reached to grab it. My hand flinched against the cloudlike fabric.

It felt like a while before I slid it out and picked it up. The pillow was small. It was still warm from when it held his head. The golden stitching held it all together perfectly. I flipped it over. Caleb was stitched in flawlessly across the surface in blend of silver and gold.

It was just like him.

He let out a little giggle.

I looked back down. He had sat up, his big gold eyes staring up at me. His mouth opened into a big smile.

I closed my eyes, feeling myself smile back.

I pushed him back down, "Sleep," I begged, "It will make this easier for both of us."

He opened his mouth. I flinched as he let out a yawn. I leaned forward.

And stopped. I froze. Caleb's head fell to his shoulder. The air shivered around me.

_Just do it!_ I ordered. _You have wasted enough time as it is._

His mouth opened again. It wasn't a yawn.

I pounced on him. I forced the pillow into his face. He squirmed, his arms useless at his sides.

He let out a whimper. I pushed down harder. I could feel his nose through the fabric.

It wasn't long until he finally went still. I lifted the pillow. Big gold eyes stared up at me. Through me. I raised his head. His neck was icy against my skin. I shivered.

I slid the pillow back under his head. I slid my hand over his eyes, closing them shut. I pinched his wide mouth shut.

I stepped back. "Two down, Three to go."


	8. Discoveries

My hand found the doorknob. I carefully turned it and entered my room without a sound. Across the room I found my desk lamp and turned it on.

The click echoed as slid my hand under my mattress. I found it, tracing my thumb across its smooth, polished edge.

I pulled it out. The frame felt like a pile of ash in my hands. Keeping a steady grip on it with my one hand, I used the other to reach into my hair, finding the lone bobby pin.

The cold picture was filled with the warm faces staring up at me.

I turned the pin so that its accusing tips pointed at me and the curved bend pointed to the family.

With an aimed stab, I jabbed it into Caleb's face.

A crack sprang out from his eye. It rippled across to the edges of his face in long, delicate lines before linking together in a broken web. The crack was much more weaker than my father's crack. It lines were much more shorter, sharp, and merciful than my father's.

It strange how sleep works. Sometimes it strikes in the blink of an eye, other times it can take hours. And it always begins when you least expect it. It blurs the gap between reality and rest so well that you're never really sure when it actually began.

It can take you anywhere: land, sea, even places that may not exist. You are given a new name, a new life, and basically a fresh start midway in someone else's story. These dreams can be extremely mesmerizing puzzles that had to have been created by true masterminds or they are the purest forms of simplicity. Your mind falls for every drunken illusion you are given, no matter how insane they get. You just believe it for what it is, and don't think nothing more of it. Everything is so beautiful, so perfect, that you never see past the falseness of it all. But just as the climax begins to peak, it is taken from your mind by reality, leaving you with nothing more than a dull blur that is soon to be forgotten.

Or it is just a blank hollow void. No more, no less.

That is what I had awoken from. No dreams. No fantasies. Just a long black moment that the long night made hallow.

Morning came quick. Just moments ago I had put away the picture. I had fallen into my bed and then reality was gone.

It seems so impossibly real that you abandon your current life to become the dream.

Maybe _reality_ is a false name for what reality is. It isn't real. We enter dreams as easily as we leave them. We've been so good at it in life since birth. There is no way it can be that easy from the start.

Because we have never done it. We have always dreaming. It makes sense. We believe Maybe we have never woken up. And the only people that have woken up never return to tell us what the real reality even is on the other side. If there even is a real reality. Dreams are inevitable, and it is impossible to know when you'll wake up.

I have never been a fan of waking up. I prefer to stay asleep as long as possible.

Sadly, I couldn't stay asleep for long. Even with my eyes closed, the dream wouldn't take me back. Eventually I gave up. My room was bright with sunshine. A pulse thumped in the corner of my room. I had to squint my eyes against the burning light to see that it was one of the maids. She fluttered her little duster around as blind and carelessly as a doe.

My hands reached under me and helped me get up on my elbows.

After a second the maid looked at me and gave a false toothy smile, "Good morning, Mystique."

The picture frame flashed in my mind. "What time is it?" I ordered.

She glanced at her wrist. "Seven forty-five."

I pulled away my blankets and forced myself onto my feet. It didn't take me long to cross the room and find the hall.

_Fifteen minutes_, I thought as I made my way to the stairs. Mother couldn't be far.

Luckily she wasn't.

"Well then make it happen," Her voice echoed from her office door. "I need them to start working on it as soon as possible. My son is being crowned soon and I need it here before then. Got it?" She showed a vicious smile, "Good. Get it here in two weeks or you will need to find some new heads for you and your family."

With a click she slammed the phone into its stand. She began looking through the papers across her desk.

"What is it, child?" She asked, never looking up.

"I believe we may have a terrorist in our staff."

Her face lit up. An amused light flashed in her eyes, "Explain."

I gulped. "Yesterday I noticed one of the chefs spending a lot of extra time on Lucian's dish. It was Caroline Primrose. She has been working with us long enough to have gotten to Father as well."

She was silent for a long moment. Finally she said in a voice much more careful than before, "Do you know what exactly she had done."

"I am not exactly sure," I admitted. "I did manage to see her put in some sort of powder, but that was all that I saw."

"Well then," Her hands shuffled some of the papers into a large stack. They made a loud thump as she tapped them straight with the table. "Thank you. I will make sure it is taken care of."

"Of course." Without another word, I curtsied and left. Once her door was behind me I let a smile cross my lips.

I followed down the halls, not taking care to where they led me. After a while I spotted Jonathan come out of a doorway.

"Good morning, John." I said.

He gave me a long glance, "Why so amused?"

I raise my eyebrows in surprise. "I guess it is just a good morning."

"Well than that is the last thing to be happy about." He sighed.

"What makes you say that?"

He gave me the look he gives any mind blinded peasant. "Everyone knows that a good morning leads into a bitter day and a sorrowed night."

My hand touched my heart in a faked shock, "Why, how delightful of you." He rolled his eyes. "You know, brother," I said, "Maybe if you could to brighten your stoned heart a bit you could actually learn how to smile."

"Very funny," He sighed. "A bright heart leads to a blind mind. Only a fool would choose to think like that."

"Well then I guess you are no better than a fool."

"You know, for someone talking to their future king you can be pretty rude. Talk like that much longer and you might lose your head."

I smiled.

_Not if I get yours first._

The words tingled on my lips, but they could not get any further. I tried to think of something to say. But that thought bellowed over any other that could come.

A clock throbbed in the distant.

Someone screamed.

In a blur, Jonathan was gone. I followed just steps behind him. I did not even bother to keep track of him though. I knew where he was going.

He paused at Caleb's door before rushing inside. A lone maid stood over the crib. She turned around. Her trembling arm held a death grip on the crib. Her heartbeat flinched like a speeding drum.

"He… He... He-"

Jonathan grabbed her shoulders and shook her hard. "What?"

She froze, finally being able to stand still. She just stared up at him for a while. "He is dead. The child is dead."

I saw Jonathan do something I had never seen him do. His guard dropped. His body tensed still. Slowly, his arms lost their grip on her and fell to his side. His mouth opened but nothing came out. It did not have to though. The question was clear enough on his stunned face.

But then he found himself again. The shields went back up. He pushed her aside, staring into the crib.

"Go get Mother," he said, his eyes never leaving his baby brother. I did not move. I could not take my eyes off what I was seeing. He looked up at me with true disgust. In the move vile voice I have ever heard he growled, "Do not just stand there. Go!"

I flinched back, nearly tripping over my own feet. I hurried out the door, barely seeing the halls as I reached my mother's office.

"Mother," She looked up at the panic in my voice. "Caleb is dead."


	9. False, Framed, and Furious

Days seemed to go quickly. If it weren't for the sun's rising and falling, I would never notice. I looked out the window, watching as the sun fell again for the sixth time since Caleb's last breath.

The breath I had stolen.

I could still see him there, watching him glitch until his system had finally shut down.

I could not remember if I had heard his last heart beat. Maybe I had. Maybe I had not. Whatever the answer was, I would never know. But that will never matter. Never.

Mother has barely changed since. She worked as just as well after Caleb's death as she had after Fathers. The only difference now was that there would be a pause when she would usually order for someone to grab the child and bring him to the table. She also has to pause when she is about to

Someone flinched next to me in his sleep.

Lucian was quite the opposite of our mother. With every day, every meal, I watched as he grew weaker and weaker. These last few days he has been stuck in bed. He thinks it okay, especially since he gets to have not only breakfast, but lunch and dinner in bed. He has asked if he could get out so he could try to walk. At first I had agreed, but after watching him fall so many times, I had to force him to stop.

The sky faded to a dark fuchsia. I looked down at my new youngest brother. His face was even more flushed than it had been yesterday. His eyes have darkened with troubled sleep. Every now and then his dream would make him jolt. Even with that though, he still looked like as angel while he slept.

"Sleep long, child," I whispered, sweeping a hair way from his forehead, "The world is not worth waking up to."

I kissed his forehead before leaving him.

"How is he looking?" Jonathan suddenly appeared just as I closed the door.

"A little worse," I said, "I am afraid."

He wrapped me in his arms, "Do not worry," he said, "He may be able to fight threw it though."

"Even though Father did not?" I asked. He nodded. "What makes you so sure?"

"The boy is strong,"

"Stronger than Father?" I asked.

He gave me a puzzled look, "Why are you so sure that he will die? You of all people should want him to live through this."

I forced a shocked look on my face, "You retched fool, of course I want him to live! But just because I want him to live does not mean that I will get what I want. I am not going to be blinded by hope only to let reality crush me into pieces. So how about you shut up about that kind of nonsense and stop wasting my time!"

"Is this some sort of sick game to you?" I growled, "Your brother is dying back there and you can find some sort of humor out of it." He did not say anything. "I would not be surprised if you were the one doing this to him."

He flinched. "How could you even think such a thing?"

I did not have an answer.

I did him a favor and left. He did not follow.

As I made my way downstairs, I could tell that things were no better than upstairs.

Two men were dragging a maid to the door.

"Listen to me," I recognized the voice as Caroline, "I'm innocent."

"Oh, are you?" Mother held up something in her hand. It was a little vial of my special powder. "Then explain _this_," She ordered.

"I- I can't," Caroline argued, "That isn't mine. Someone must have left it in there. On- on purpose."

"Open the door," She ordered one of the clerks. They followed their orders. "Take her to the executioner. No one may harm my child and not pay the price."

Her looked past my mother and found mine. I gave a glare as it finally hit her. "B-but I didn't harm your child-" Just as she was about to raise her arm, the door slammed shut, sealing her fate.

"Be gone," She ordered to all that gazed back at her. Get back to work. Let her mistake be your final warning." She turned from them all without a care and disappeared into a hallway.

I waited a second before calmly going down the stairway. Maids stepped aside as I walked towards and down that hallway.

I watched just as she made a turn at its end.

I followed her, not bothering to be careful with my steps.

Surprisingly, it was not until we reached her office that she noticed I was even there. And it was not until she sat down that she spoke, "What do you want, child?"

"Mother," She lifted her head. "Lucian is not looking any closer to well. Perhaps we should take him to the hospital-"

She looked away and said something under her breath.

I thought I had heard the word, but I had to be sure. "What?"

"No!" Her fist slammed into the table. Its noise echoed, causing everything along the table to shiver. A few things even clattered to the floor. "No. Not again. They will not take another one from me. Not now. Not ever," Her words were moving so fast that they pulled her out of her chair. Her eyes glared down on me with even more hate than the raging hell of her voice.

I stood my ground, forcing every emotion in me out of my eyes.

"Those monsters can kill whatever hopeless soul they like, but they will not touch a single hair on that boy. On any Goldblood. I will have the head of anyone who tries and will even take it myself. Those cretins have already failed me once, and I am sick of failure." Her eyes left for somewhere else, "He was right. He knew it all along. I thought he was crazy, but it is inevitable." She froze. Her eyes stared at nothing. Everything surfaced from the mask of her face. Slowly but surely, she found her seat again and sank into it. "If only he had known that he would not be the last."

"I am sorry, Mystique," She fell back into her seat. Her eyes fell to the table, not seeing any of it. "But it would be best if you left."

I gave the stranger a long look before finally giving her a bow she would never see. Then I did what would be best to do.


	10. Green Eyes of the Diminishing

I am so sorry that I was not able to post a chapter last week. This one was a tricky one to write and I hope to get the next chapter up as soon as I can. Keep reading and I cannot wait to hear what you all have to say.

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><p>"Remember, Mystique," I turned back to my mother as she passed down the halls. He back was to me when she said, "You have a dress fitting at seven."<p>

I let out a sigh, "I know." She disappeared out of sight and into another hall. "I know."

I gripped the handle of the door and pushed it open. The rich scents of food filled the air. My steps were slow as I made my way to Lucian's meal. A maid stood over, putting in some of the finishing touches.

"Here."

The maid looked up, a puzzled look on her face.

"You have done plenty. I will take care of the rest of it."

She gave a nod. She curtsied and walked away. She paused at the door and took a glance back at me. I gave her an assuring nod and she finally me alone.

He has not sat at the table since that last meal. Since then we have left him to eat in bed. He has his meal brought to his bed.

Since Caroline was fired, Jonathan wanted for his brother to eat at the table. I talked him out of it though, reminding him that Lucian needs to recover completely before we can take any chances like that. Centered in the middle of the tray was a bowl of shredded chicken. A mix of rice, pulled pork, reds, yellows, and greens were stirred in with it. A spicy vinaigrette had been sprinkled on top. Beside it was a glass of glistening grape cider.

It was one of his favorite meals. He has always gotten it for his every birthday since he was five. Father made sure that it was the only day he got it. Father always said that favorites should be saved for very important days, and what is more important for him then the awakening of a Goldblood.

I had made sure that he would get this meal today. All great things should end how they started.

I gave the dish a sniff. Knowing my brother, I grabbed the bottled of vinaigrette and drizzled on a little more.

When I was sure that the kitchen was empty, I opened the jar I had been hiding in my hand. Tilting it over, I tapped in a good amount. I stirred it in until I couldn't see it anymore. I did the same with his cider, watching the white crystals disappear.

After I put my powder away, I picked it up and was out of the kitchen.

The halls were pretty empty. No heartbeat was in a range close enough to hear, let alone a breath. I took my time with the steps, feeling as each one grasped my foot and reluctantly let go.

The halls had shrunk by the time I reached the final step. The air was thick and itched at my skin.

I tried to force it away. That just made it worse.

The halls silence seemed to echo.

I reached the end of the hall. My shoulder bumped the corner as I made the turn.

Something fell. There was no shatter, just a loud thump.

This was not the first time I had heard that noise.

I sped past the hall. I could not go to fast though since I still had the tray. I could see every detail as I sped down two halls and finally reached his room. I grabbed the doorknob and forced it open.

"Lucian!"

He was lying on the floor. His arms shook, trembling as they tried to push away from the ground.

I placed the tray on his nightstand and knelt down beside him.

"I thought I already told you," I began "You are not allowed to walk. It is not safe."

"This is not fair!" He whined, "I cannot take it anymore. I am sick of living like a prisoner."

"I know it is not fair. I hate doing this as much as you do, but it is out of our hands."

"Will I ever walk again?" He asked.

"I…" _I_ what? I am sorry? I cannot let that happen? I did this to you? "I am not sure," He was about to cut in, but I did not let him, "But if you try to walk now you could risk never walking again." His head fell with a weight far beyond his years, "If you would like, I can get you another book-"

"No! I am sick of books. I am sick of this!" His fist slammed into a pillow. "I am sick of being trapped in this stupid bed. I am sick of living like… like _this! _ I admit, it was nice at first but I hate it! I am sick of this place! I am sick of everything!" Something in him shut down, a new kind of bitter flame taking its place. His voice was tired, worn.

"Shh," I pulled him close. His head fell on my shoulder. The fabric beneath it grew damp with tears. "It is ok." I scooped my one arm under his knees, the other under his neck. He was a lot lighter than I expected. Not as light as a toddler, but close enough. I walked to his bed, being careful as I set him back down.

I knelt down, his eyes straining as they met mine.

"I want to get better. I want this to just be dead and gone already. I cannot take it anymore."

"I know," I sighed, "I know it's a hard battle," My eyes had to look away, "But you are a lot stronger than your brother gives you credit for. You should not need to fight it too much longer."

I barely heard as he forced out a breath. "I hope so."

I looked back up. His eyes were hollow, lost wherever they had gone. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. _I had to say something._ My eyes wandered the room. _Anything._

The tray.

"Hey," He looked up, "I brought you something."

"I told you I did not want anything."

"Trust me," I said, helping him sit up "You will love this." I reached over and placed the tray on his lap.

"Chicken Potpourri!"

"Yes," smiling as his eyes lit up, "I made sure they made it just how you like it."

Staring into the dish, he let out a mesmerized hum. Just as he was about to pick up his fork, he looked up, his smile gone. "But it is not my birthday."

"That does not matter." I said, "You deserve it."

He turned, nearly knocking over his tray. My hand caught it just as his arms wrapped around my neck.

"Thank you, missy. You are the best sis ever."

Something flinched in my stomach. Water blurred my sight. "You are welcome."

I blinked the white back into my eyes just as he let go.

He did not notice. He was too focused on his tray.

He let out a childish gasp, "Is that grape cider?"

I could not help but laugh, "Of course," I chuckled, feeling a gulp, "You deserve nothing but the best."

He grabbed the glass. My breath froze, its air filling into the back of my head. My hand flinched up.

My other hand held it down. He pressed the glass to his lips. I shut my eyes. I could barely hear as he took a big gulp. The sound of it crushing my skull.

"Something wrong, missy?

I opened my eyes. He held the glass loosely in his hand, it was an inch less than it had been when they were open before. "I," my spine shivered, rattling my tenseness. I dug my hand into the hardwood below me. "Nothing, I am fine."

He nodded, poking his fork into his food and taking a bite. He managed to get six bites before he took a sip of his drink. After eight, the color left his face. After eleven, I grabbed the half full bucket and held it up for him. The noise was unbearable. It felt like an eternity until he finished. An eternity later and I put it back down, not letting go of the rim.

He grabbed his fork.

"It is ok, you do not need to finish."

"But it is so good." He another bite to his mouth. I saw the lump as he forced it down his throat.

He hand trembled as he took the next bite. He went down for another one. His hand continued to shake. It fell. He eyes grew wide.

I grabbed the bucket and heard as it caught the noise again.

"Do not," I said once he was finished, "You do not need to."

"But-"

"Please!" I begged, "You are just hurting yourself."

His look made me freeze. I felt the warm drop trace over my cheek.

"Ok," He moved, pushing the tray aside him, "I will stop."

I took a while before I picked it up and put it on his dresser.

"You know what?" I finally said. He looked up, his eyes pleading me to continue, "Remember when you told me that I would make a good king?"

"Yeah."

"Well I have been thinking about it, and I think I know someone else who would make for an even better one."

"Really? Who?"

I reached my hand forward and tapped his nose. "You."

He gave me a look like I had just told him that the grass is blue and the sky is green.

"I am serious," I continued, "You possess all of the elements that make a good king. You are well grounded. Your mindset can shift as easily as the sand. Your mind is more pure than water and your movements are just as slick. You are as swift and nimble as sand, yet strong enough to take whatever comes at you and still remain on your feet. Your mind is very bright. Fire glows in your heart and glows through you even though you can still keep enough control on it so it does not take control. Not only that, but you have a free, noble spirit that is more wise and truer than that of the gods.

He let out a giggle, "I think you just described someone else."

"Oh did I?" He nodded. I held out my hand. "Agree to disagree?" I asked.

He held his little hand in mine and gave it a shake. "Deal."

Something changed in his eyes. His eyes had their own kind of power. Nothing like Jonathan's. His power came from rage, fury, a hunger for control. Lucian's were something else. A pale green instead or his brother's red. His were a sweet bitterness that paused everything. Everything would stand still for too long that you cannot help but notice. Wordless questions fill the air. You want to answer, but cannot. You second guess things. You second guess _every_thing.

_Second guessing, _the words ringed in my head. With enough time, I am sure he could win a battle Jonathan never could.

"Am I going to end up like Father?" He asked.

My eyes lost his and moved to the window. Something itched at the back of my eyes, but I blinked it away.

When I finally looked back, he was staring at me patiently, watching me. I ran my hand through his mud brown hair. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. He was about to say something, but I held a finger to his lips. "Go to sleep. Night is coming."

With a slight nod, he let his head sink into his pillow.

As he started to close his eyes. I did not leave until his face relaxed and his heart stopped.


	11. Broken and Beautiful

I am so so sorry it took me so long to post the chapter. I am going to try and post these chapters as soon as I can. Don't worry, I am still writing and do not plan to stop anytime soon.

* * *

><p>I closed the door. Something creaked. I flinched.<p>

_It was just the floor, _I reminded myself.

A heartbeat. It had felt like a while since I had heard one.

I looked over to see a servant at the end of the hall. He froze when I approached him.

"Take these to the kitchen," after a pause I remembered, "And let Lucian's servants know that he has gone to bed early."

I handed him the tray. He nodded and bowed before leaving me in the hall.

6: 59.

I had already checked the time before I had left. Of course the fitting room had to be all the way on the other side of the house.

Hour's bell rang. It filled the house, muttering any and every noise in the house.

I sped through the halls. I had to weave around some of the maids and servants. Others I just sped through.

The door came into my sight. I yanked it open.

Mother stood with her back to me, facing the two women her. Fine silk dressed them from head to toe, though they were not as fine as what dress my mother. It had not been too long since I had last seen them. Just last month they imprisoned me into a constricting jersey gown trimmed in gold for my father's yearly ball.

The door slammed behind me. Whatever words were on her lips were quickly lost, abandoned.

"You are late," She remarked. Her attention still on her subjects. Her voice was calm, but it still had that fatal fresh sting of a sharpened blade glossed across it.

I caught a glance at the clock above me. The little red hand clicked out its fourth second of 7:01.

Lucian. He dove for the hole in a wall of trees. I was chasing him though the forest like I had last august. He dove through a hedge, and I had let it take minutes before I was able to catch up and catch him, dragging him into a bed of flowers.

My mother's eyes were now looking at me. I dropped my head. "I," What? The words clung to my lips. They were crisp in my mind but would blur into nothing by the time they reached my lips. They tingled there, torturous and just out of reach.

I had to say something. Anything.

"I… Forgive me," My voice was too dry. Too weak. I forced some strength back into it. "I had lost track of time."

The air itched with silence, like a single nail cutting down slowly across a chalkboard. It took its time, letting the creaks and grumbles file off its edge.

Mother cut it off. "Forget it. We have wasted enough time already. Seconds lost cannot be fixed with petty apologies. Babbling any longer will just rid off more of it. Sol! Luna!" The two seamstresses tensed. "Fit her into her dress. I will be back in half of the hour, and I wish not to come back to any mistakes." She left, the clicking of her heels cut off by the door slamming shut.

The male held his hand out and I let him assist me up onto the pedestal. If I was remembering right, the highlights of his hair had changed from gold to red since our last appointment. The girl had not changed much, just a different tint of color in her face. She opened her wardrobe and pulled out the dress. It was as beautiful as it had been before, only this time it fitted better.

Maybe a bit _too_ well considering that my mother must approve of it first.

The silver fabric had a nice metallic glimmer to it. The sleeve was transparent but was elaborately embedded with diamonds, rubies and gold. The back of the left shoulder was embedded with the Goldblood's crest, something that should mean more to me than my blood and honor.

As beautiful as it was, it probably would have looked better on Jonathan than it did on me. Don't get me wrong, it fit the body perfectly, it was the face that was out of place.

"Missy," The voice echoed inside my head, but the lips that spoke them were far in the glass in front of me. I knew I should have smiled. Usually I do when I hear him say that, but it just made me do the opposite. "Missy, over here!" He started waving his arms. I closed my eyes, but he would not disappear.

My gut twisted.

"Missy," His tone changed to something I have never heard before. "Missy!" I flinched. "Look at me, Missy!" I did not have a choice. My eyes opened. I had never seen him mad before. It was so strange. Unnatural. Like looking at a beautiful monster, if such a thing even exists.

The ground left my foot. My body never hit the ground. Something had caught me and forced me back on the pedestal.

"Are you ok, Goldblood?" The guy asked.

"I can loosen the dress if it's too tight," The girl offered.

"No!" The flinched. "The dress is fine. I… am fine. Do not ever speak of this.

In the mirror, could see the two of them finally lose their grip on her. The real monster. Her fair skin was paler than usual, nearly the color of snow. Her eyes were as blood red as her scarlet lips. Only the sharpest eyes could see the subtle tremble. The ugly face would not stop looking at me.

The mirror could have been cracked, and she would not have looked any more broken than she did now.


	12. Chewed to the Bone

The door slammed shut.

Unlike the last first time, I knew better than to be surprised. Mother is always a little cranky after funerals, no exceptions to the last few ones we have had. It would have been interesting if it was a double funeral. I could just imagine the two brothers laying side by side in there coffin. Their bright eyes staring up to nothing they could ever see. It sounded like something she would do. The crowning does have her on a time crunch and peasants did those all the time, though usually their dead were sent down a filthy creak to be eaten by alligators or something like that. Not only that but it would save her half the price and half as many funerals in one week. But no, mother made sure that each child was buried properly and with respect.

She stood there, just inches from the door. Her pinned up hair was stiff, as if it had been forced frozen in its place. Her fair skin was diluted of its golden glow. Her face was drained of emotion, making it look like she had just walked out of her own funeral. Ghostly silent, she walked past us like she was alone. She went up the stairs, disappearing into the fading shadows.

Just like she had for the last two.

When the bells were rung for dinner, Mother never came down. The rest of us took our seats. And by that, I mean me and Jonathan. It was not until now that I could really notice the change. It was so much quieter, so much more peaceful. If it were not for the guy that sat in front of me, it would be perfect.

The maid brought out the three plates, putting each one at its spot. While I was usually in the mood for a good chunk of roast, seeing the food on my plate just made my stomach twist. Just as the maid closed the door to the kitchen, my brother stabbed his fork into one of Mother's potatoes and popped it into his mouth.

"Jonathan…" I sighed.

"_What?"_ He poorly mimicked through a food loaded mouth. He sounded less like my and more like a snobbish beast.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" I demanded.

"Eating," He stated with false age, "There is no point in letting good food go cold."

"That does not matter," I said, "Mother would slap you if she knew you were eating her food. She could come down any minute-"

"You know as well as I do that she is not coming down at all. This is the second time she's done this. There was a pause before he finally added, "You would think she would be stronger than this. She is the king's wife for the gods' sake."

"She has a good reason to be so depressed. She has lost a husband and two children. Can you even try to be the least empathetic? You lost them too."

He did not say anything. Just took another bite of his food.

"Your own brothers are dead and you talk about them like rats, like they were filthy peasants that are better off dead."

"Well they are dead!" He yelled. His eyes did not have the devilish fun kind of anger they did when we fought. It was a pure, utter loathing that knew no bounds. "Nothing can ever change that. Tears and pity are just a pathetic waste of time. If you women could get enough control over yourselves to see the real logic of things, maybe you could actually learn to grow up and move on."

"How can you even say something like that?" I demanded. Something wet burned in my eyes. "Father has done so much for you. You are getting his throne next week for the gods' sake! Hell, if you were the one who died, they would be showing you a lot more respect then you are giving them right now."

"That is because I am their king."

"King?" I mocked, "I would hate to break it to you but the last time I checked you are far from one. Considering the way you have been lately a peasant would be better suited as king than an egotistical pathetic little punk like you!" He was about to say something, but I cut him off. I spoke slow, all of my honest rage burning into his eyes, "You were such a cruel, horrible brother to Lucian, did you know that? Lucian and Caleb cared about you more than you would ever know, no matter how heartless you would get. And this is all you have to give them in returned? _You_ should be the one who is dead right now. Not them."

Nothing. There was absolutely nothing that followed my words. Nothing from him, nothing from me. It was as if time had been trapped, leaving us in an empty moment. Seconds did not exist. They were blurred together into long endless moments that could shatter with a single wrong move.

I wanted to kill him. No doubt about it. I might as well. It was going to happen anyway, right? It would be so easy. So quick. Sure, I may have spent the last few weeks strategically planning every step and turn of numerous ways to end him once and for all. But to be honest, sometimes simplicity is best way to go.

My knife tensed in my hand. I have all I would need right in front of me. A quick through to the heart would do it. He wouldn't expect it. By the time he would realize what is going on he would be a dead man. It would have been so perfect.

_But mother was home,_ I reminded myself. My grip loosened. Jonathan would not die easy, and there would e no way of hiding the mess even if he did. Mother would see that it was me who ruined everything for her, and then there would be nothing left for me. Every sacrificed I have made would be in complete vain. History would act like I had done nothing at all, was just a wasted shadow. I would be practically handing over the crown like a petty gift.

I never thought I would see the day Jonathan cried. It was an ugly alien thing.

We have never been here before. This sort of thing has never happened. Yes we have fought for years over everything imaginable, but father was always there then to stop it short. Usually by the time the bicker turned to a brawl Father would slam the table and force us to end the argument. Most of the time it was for mother's sake. The fight would silence until we were back in the studio, where we would finish the fight with actions instead of words.

But Father never did stop it this time, so here we are.

He rose to his feet. I knew he wanted to say something. It burned in his eyes like an unspoken truth. Like it was something I did not know. Something was different, but before I could figure out what that was, he had walked away from me, reluctantly making his way down the hall and out of my sight.

I waited, listening patiently as his footsteps echoed into silence. I could feel the corners of my mouth begin to perk. "Be _very_ careful, boy," I mused, "Time's waning ticks for only so long," My knife stabbed hard enough into the table to make it shake. "And then you die."


End file.
